The Lawman's Nanny Op (13 page)

She nodded. “I guess as well as can be expected. I’m just frustrated because I have no idea who’s behind these attacks. Maybe it’s one of those aliens Walt Tolliver is always talking about.”

Benjamin laughed and then frowned thoughtfully. “Walt’s always been an odd duck, but lately he seems to be more obsessed about an alien invasion than usual. I’m worried about him.”

“I know his wife died three or four years ago. Does he have other family?” she asked.

“A granddaughter. Her name is Edie Burnett and she lives in Topeka. I called her yesterday and got her voice mail and left her a message to get back to me, but so far I haven’t heard from her.”

“It’s still early. I’m sure you’ll hear from her before the day is over.”

“I hope so. I just want some family member to check in with him and make sure he’s doing okay.”

“You’re a nice man, Benjamin. How come you aren’t married?” she asked.

He wrapped his large hands around the coffee mug and smiled ruefully. “I’m a one-woman man and I guess I just haven’t found my one woman yet. And I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you married with a bunch of your own kids running around?”

“Because I think loving Caleb ruined me for ever loving another man.” She stared at him, appalled that she’d actually spoken those words aloud.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him what you said,” he assured her with a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I think maybe it’s the same way for him.”

“That’s not true,” she scoffed. “He apparently loved Laura Kincaid. They were engaged to be married.”

Benjamin leaned back in his chair and once again frowned thoughtfully. “Whatever he had with Laura, I don’t think it was real love. He didn’t have that sparkle in his eyes, that spring to his step that he always had when he was around you. When she left town he wasn’t heartbroken. He was just angry. I think Caleb has been angry since the time you two broke up.”

She leaned back in her chair and released a deep sigh. “Oh, Benjamin, Caleb’s and my past is like a big white elephant in the room. We’ve never really talked about what happened and why. There’s never been any real sense of closure between the two of us.”

He smiled at her. “Then maybe it’s time to get out the great big hunting gun and shoot down that elephant. Maybe what you two need is a second chance.”

A whisper of warmth swept through her, the warmth of possibility. Could she and Caleb somehow move away from their past and find each other again? Was it possible they could have a second chance?

Almost immediately the warmth that had tried to take hold of her was overwhelmed by the chill of her reality as she remembered that somebody didn’t want her to have a second chance. Somebody simply wanted her dead.

Chapter 9

I
t was just after one when Caleb pulled back in to his driveway. He parked the car but instead of getting out he leaned his head forward and released a weary sigh.

He was exhausted. Sleep had been nearly impossible after Portia had fallen asleep the night before. He’d sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as she’d slept and he’d admitted to himself the truth, that he did still care about her deeply.

He would have married Laura and he would have done his best to ensure that they had a happy life together, but his feelings for the pretty blonde had never been the same as what he’d felt for Portia.

He tried to tell himself that his intense attraction to Portia was based on nothing more than memories of what had been, but he knew that wasn’t completely true. In the last couple of days he’d come to admire her inner strength, had been reminded again and again by the people he’d interviewed of what a warm and loving woman she was, how much so many of the other people in town liked her. She was a good woman who deserved a good man, but he refused to consider that he might be that man.

He raised his head and got out of the car, the August sun scorching on his back. The idea of being cooped up with Portia in the house for the next couple of days made him feel just a little bit crazy.

How long could he smell her scent, see that occasional flicker of flame in her eyes, and not explode? How long could he see those lips of hers and not want to take them again in a kiss that left them both gasping and wanting?

More than anything he wanted to make love to her again and almost more than anything else in the world the very idea scared him. Although he was determined to keep her from walking into his heart, he was terrified that somehow she’d manage to slide in beneath his defenses.

He found her and his brother in the kitchen and seated at the table playing cards. “Thank God, you’re back,” Benjamin exclaimed as he scooted his chair back from the table. “She’s a regular cardsharp. She’s beat me nine games out of ten.”

“Poker?” Caleb asked.

Portia grinned. “Go Fish.”

Benjamin threw his cards on the table and stood. “What did you find out about Joe?”

“He left Portia’s last night and hooked up with Ann Tyler. They had a few drinks at Harley’s and then she went back to his place with him. I confirmed the story with Ann, who said Joe didn’t leave his bed all night.”

“So you’re back to square one,” Benjamin said.

“Unfortunately yes,” Caleb agreed and fought to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“I’m heading back to the office. Is there anything else you need me to do?” Benjamin asked.

“It’s too early for anything to have come in from the bedding we took last night.” Caleb shook his head. “No, I guess there’s nothing.”

“Then I’ll see you both later.”

As Benjamin left, Caleb turned to Portia. “How about we head to the café for some lunch?”

“Should I be seen out in public?” she asked, a touch of fear darkening her beautiful eyes.

Caleb had been considering their next course of action since the moment he’d left the house earlier. He leaned with his hip against the counter and gazed at her intently. “Initially my first thought was to hide you here, to make sure that nobody knew you were here in an effort to keep you safe.”

“And now?”

“And now I’m wondering if it’s a better idea to let everyone in town know that you’re staying here.” He saw her eyes narrow and then widen in sudden comprehension.

“Use me as bait,” she said. She reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear, and he noticed that her slender hand trembled slightly.

“It’s your call, Portia. If I didn’t think I could keep you safe, then I’d never suggest it in the first place,” he said.

She frowned thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving his. “I trust you,” she finally said. “Besides, it might be the only way to pull the person out of the shadows. I want this done and over and if this is the way to accomplish it, then I’m in.”

“Then let’s head to the café,” he said. Two minutes in his kitchen with her alone and he was already eager to escape the small confines.

Minutes later they were in his car. “He presumably hung the flyers at night and slammed into your car on a dark, isolated road. Last night he hoped to find you asleep and vulnerable. I’m guessing that as long as you’re out in the daylight and surrounded by other people you’ll be safe,” he said as he backed out of the driveway. “It’s obvious he’s not crazy enough to make an attack where somebody might be able to identify him.”

“What makes you think he’ll come after me at your house? I mean, it’s one thing for him to think he could get to me with just Layla standing in the way, but it’s another for him to think he can get past an armed deputy to get to me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he replied. “All I want to focus on now is a big juicy hamburger with extra pickles.”

She smiled at him. “Remember that night you and I sat at your mother’s kitchen table and you ate a whole jar of sweet pickles and she got so mad because she was going to use them to make potato salad?”

The memory pulled a burst of laughter to his lips. “She was so mad, she said I’d ruined the meal she was going to take the next day to poor Mrs. Whittaker, who was recovering from back surgery.”

“You got a bellyache and poor Mrs. Whittaker got macaroni and cheese instead of your mom’s signature potato salad.” Her eyes sparkled in a way he hadn’t seen for what seemed like a hundred years and that sparkle lit a flame of want deep inside him.

He focused on finding a parking place in front of the café. “Things seemed so easy then,” he said as he pulled the car to a halt and cut the engine.

“We thought we had the world by the tail,” she replied. “We were so young and so ridiculously arrogant.”

“Yeah, we were.” He opened the car door. “Let’s go eat.”

He didn’t want to share memories with her. He didn’t want to think about that time when he’d had her in his arms, in his heart, and it had felt right. He’d thought he’d known exactly what his future would be with her.

They entered the café and he spied an empty booth toward the back. He led her there and he took the side facing the door. If trouble walked into the café he wanted to see it instantly.

Immediately Linda the waitress arrived at their table with water glasses and menus. “I don’t need one of those,” Caleb said as Linda started to hand him one of the menus.

Linda smiled. “Let me guess, a big burger with no onions and extra pickles, curly fries and a soda.”

“You’ve got it,” he replied.

“And what about you, Portia? You good without a menu, too?” Linda asked.

“I’ll have the same thing he’s having and just put my pickles on his burger,” she said.

“Got it,” Linda said and left the booth.

Almost immediately an awkward silence descended between them. Caleb focused his attention around the café, trying to notice if anyone was paying them unusual attention. But he felt Portia’s gaze lingering on him and finally returned his focus to her.

“Last night right before the person broke in through my window I was dreaming about prom night,” she said.

Shock stuttered through him. Of all the things he’d expected her to want to talk about, that night wasn’t even on the list. “Oh, yeah?” he replied carefully.

She held his gaze with an intensity that stirred more than a little nervous tension inside him. “I was dreaming that we were on the bed in the motel room and you were unzipping my dress.”

His throat went dry as he remembered the silk of her bare skin, the way her heart had beat a rapid tattoo against his own. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, his voice holding a slightly rough edge even to his own ears.

“Because I think we need to talk about it, about us and what happened years ago,” she replied. “I don’t want it to be taboo between us anymore.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he exclaimed. “We dated, we broke up, end of story. Most high school romances don’t last. We weren’t that different than a million other couples at that age.”

“But I have things I want to talk about,” she replied.

He glanced around the busy café and then looked back at her. “This isn’t the time or the place for any kind of personal conversation. Let’s just eat and then if you still want to we can talk about it later.”

He hoped that she’d just forget whatever it was she thought she had to say. He didn’t want to revisit any of it. There was no fixing it. What was done was done and he didn’t even want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

Their lunch was delivered and the awkward silence that had appeared earlier returned between them. Caleb tried to keep his focus on the other people in the café rather than on the woman across from him.

Larry Norwood, the town vet, sat at the counter chatting with Margie Meadows, a tough-talking widow who worked at the convenience store at the edge of town. At a nearby table a bunch of high school–aged girls giggled and shot longing gazes to a handsome young man who sat alone at the counter.

He wanted to tell the young man to run hard and fast from teenage heartbreak, but knew that it was possible that teenage angst was a part of the painful rite of passage into adulthood.

They were nearly finished eating when Tom walked in. He spied Caleb and Portia and approached their booth. “Portia,” he said in greeting. “How are you doing today?”

“Better than I was doing last night when you saw me,” she replied.

“My little brother taking care of you okay?”

“Maybe too well. I feel more than a little guilty taking him away from other work.”

Tom smiled, but the gesture didn’t quite reach the darkness of his eyes. “Keeping you safe is his job.”

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Caleb said.

“How’re Peyton and Lilly doing?” Portia asked.

“They’re great.” Joy sparked in Tom’s eyes and despite Caleb’s desire to remain alone, he felt a small touch of envy strike him.

“When are you going to make an honest woman out of Peyton?” Portia asked.

The light in Tom’s eyes dimmed. “When Brittany is home and can attend the wedding,” he replied.

“I pray that happens,” she replied.

He nodded and focused back on Caleb. “You’ll keep me posted on what’s going on?”

“You know it,” Caleb replied easily.

With a murmured goodbye Tom left them and sat at the counter next to Larry Norwood. “He’s still optimistic that we’re going to find Brittany alive and well,” Caleb said. “But with each day that passes my hope of that happening is disappearing.”

“I hope you’re wrong and Tom is right,” Portia said and shocked him by reaching across the table and taking Caleb’s hand in hers.

Her fingers entwined with his and he couldn’t help but think it was a perfect fit. He’d always loved to hold hands with her because her hand fit so neatly into his.

“You can’t lose hope, Caleb,” she said and her fingers tightened around his. “You have to believe that everything is going to be okay, that eventually we’re all going to get a happy ending.”

He pulled his hand from hers. “I don’t believe in happy endings,” he said curtly and got up from the booth. “You ready to go?”

She scooted out of the booth and together they went to the counter to pay. He’d just received his change when he heard her gasp his name.

He whirled around as she grabbed his arm in a death grip. “Dale Stemple,” she managed to sputter. “He just went by driving a car. It was him, Caleb. I swear it was him.”